


Mirrors

by RedEyedRyu



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Angst, Characters Added As They Appear - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, No real plot atm, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader owns a dog, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8758117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedEyedRyu/pseuds/RedEyedRyu
Summary: When he looked at you he could see a hazy reflection of his old self, back when monsters had still been imprisoned Underground—when Resets and Anomalies had run rampant and apathy had threatened to swallow him whole. You were trying, of that he had no doubt—your SOUL pulsed with a stubborn determination reminiscent of a certain kid he knew—but a little help never hurt. He knew all too well how hard it was to try and fight that kind of thing alone.
Sans steeled himself, mind set. He was going to help you through this.





	1. Cutting through the Fog

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up that this is something I wrote to vent and plan to continue using when the need arises. As such, there is no real plot in mind and no set update schedule (not that I have one for any of my works, aha ha ha... ~~I'm so sorry~~ ). One might develop over time, who knows, but for now, this will probably just be ramblings of fluff and angst and awkward interactions between a skittish human and a well-meaning skeleton.

The first time you met him had been at a local park. You had hidden yourself away, seated in the dirt and gravel and tufts of dry, yellow grass along old railroad tracks that rarely saw any use, eyes unfocused as they surveyed the surrounding trees and foliage, the bright blue sky so full of puffy white clouds.

You came here to be alone. To catch your breath and attempt to quell your often turbulent mind. It was an area tucked away from the rest of the park, towards the back, more wilderness than landscaped greens, where people seldom ventured. Some days, when the numbness overtook you and you couldn’t feel anything, you would come here to reconnect. To reconnect to a world you often felt so incredibly _dis_ connected from—as if you were an alien, some kind of outsider desperately stumbling and groping about in the darkness, struggling to fit in, to show that _I’m one of you._ It was your hidden spot, your safe place when the weight of the world felt as if it would crush you flat.

Sometimes, you wonder if maybe you should just give in, let the world win. Let it take you out of the equation. After all,  wouldn’t things be so much easier that way? But no. You aren’t a quitter. You’re stubborn and strong and surely, if you put in enough effort, you will overcome this.

You’re still here because you refuse to give up.

That particular day had been one of your “foggy” days. A day in which your apathy had firmly dug its claws into you, burrowing beneath your skin, soaking into your very being like an oppressive, suffocatingly heavy blanket. One that provided no warmth, no comfort—only the threat of smothering you, dragging you down into a deep, dark, endless abyss.

You were fiddling with a particularly long blade of grass you had plucked prior to settling yourself among the loose gravel, your gaze lazily trailing along the bright, baby blue sky. Laying on the rough surface wasn’t comfortable but at least you felt _something_ —even if it was countless little rocks digging into your fleshy bits.

You had already been here for an hour, give or take, and were contemplating whether or not you should head home. Lolo was probably hungry but heading home involved getting up, which meant making your way back to civilization and, inevitably, having to rejoin the world.

You sighed, thinking _I should really get up_ as your eyes slipped closed, your arms moving to pillow your head. The fog had lifted ever so slightly but you didn’t feel ready, didn’t feel quite up to facing reality. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt…

 

* * *

 

You woke up an hour later to a darkening sky accented with beautiful oranges, pinks, and purples. You had let loose a sigh despite the breathtaking view spread before you; you hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You most _definitely_ had to get up now.

So you did, shifting your arms to your side and pushing yourself into a sit. You had caught a curious shade of blue out of the corner of your eye with the motion, however.

_Strange,_ you had thought, _that wasn’t there before._

With a small twist of your neck you looked to the side. ...and promptly sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as a chill shot down your spine, your heart racing as something flopped uneasily in your stomach. A fraction of a second passed before you were scrambling away from the body that had been dumped beside you, gravel kicked this way and that, little clouds of dust puffing about with the frantic motion.

Maybe “body” had been too liberal. What laid before you was little more than remains—a skeleton draped in the clothes of the person it once was.

You released a shaky exhale, not having realized you had yet to release that initial panic-induced inhale. As you consciously focused on steadying your breathing you took a moment to process. There was no way you hadn’t noticed those remains earlier—you probably would’ve smelt it long before stumbling upon it—and upon closer inspection (from your comfortable distance of several feet away) you realized something seemed… _off_ about it. Multiple things, actually. The clothes were in too pristine a condition, despite looking a little rumpled; there was no foul odor of decay, though you did pick up on something reminiscent of fast food and sweat; and the skeleton itself… it just didn’t look quite right. There was something about its skull. The jaw appeared fused, its eye sockets looked as if they were shut, and the overall shape of the skull was too smooth.

Was this someone’s sick idea of a joke?

Brows furrowing and biting at your lower lip, you had contemplated whether or not you should move in for a closer inspection. However, before you could decide upon what kind of action to take, something happened that caused your breath—and you—to freeze.

It was just a slight twitch at first, a subtle rising of its chest in a mockery of an inhale, followed by an exhale. You couldn’t suppress the shudder that had racked your body at that. _Is there something in its chest cavity??_ your frantic mind had supplied just before it _moved._ Its skull twisted to face you and you watched, in a horrid, morbid curiosity, as its eye sockets opened. For a split second your eyes were locked with an endless, inky blackness before little pinpricks of light flickered into existence in lieu of fleshy eyeballs. You weren’t sure which would be worse to stare into at this point. A grin split across its jaws—one so wide and toothy that it would turn the Cheshire Cat green with envy but only served to make your skin crawl and prickle with goosebumps.

“heya.”

You jolted. Or had it been a flinch? Regardless, your mind had kicked into overdrive as a deep, rumbling voice wove through your ears. _It could speak?!_

“you were lookin’ a little bonely, so i thought a little company wouldn’t-”

Elaborate, over-the-top, rude as hell joke or not you had decided that, _Nope. I am_ **_not_ ** _dealing with this._ And before it (or whoever was pulling the strings on this farce) could finish its sentence, you had bolted, kicking up more gravel and dust as you scrambled into the safety of the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm open to requests on interactions between characters for this fic, so if there's anything you'd like to see, feel free to share your thoughts. You can also bug me at my tumblr: [redeyedryu](http://www.redeyedryu.tumblr.com)


	2. Solitude; Companionship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days are worse than others.

The second time you met him had been down by the river, a month after your initial meeting and in one of your more sorry states. If it had been up to you, and if you had possessed the power, you would have scrubbed that particular encounter from the very fabric of existence.  
  
You had been curled in on yourself on the slightly damp mix of dirt and sand and tiny little pebbles on the river's edge, partially secluded by rocks and brush; a couple leaning trees that swooped down towards the water's edge acted as further camouflage. You had been biting at the fabric of your shirt in a vain attempt to muffle your cries, fingernails digging into the exposed flesh of your legs as you tried your best to choke back your sobs. Tears streamed down your cheeks and phlegm clogged your nose, causing your intakes of breath to sound thick and wet and oh so very heavy.  
  
You rocked yourself ever so slightly as you told yourself that you needed to calm down, you're okay, you're fine, it's okay to be upset and let yourself cry but if you kept this up...  
  
The pressure in your chest increased and you suddenly felt as if you were drowning. God, why was it so painful? How could this physically hurt so bad?!  Your sobs doubled with the pain and you were clenching your teeth so hard; there was saliva building in your mouth and wetting your shirt to a disgusting degree but you just couldn't stop. You had been vaguely aware that your nails were biting into your flesh, tearing thin little divots into the skin, but no matter how hard you tried to push down your overflowing emotions it just got worse—duplicated and multiplied and suddenly your sobs had turned into a choking hyperventilation.  
  
The tears continued to flow and you tried to force yourself to **stop** because this is exactly what you had been trying **not** to do! But trying to force yourself calm had only succeeded in working yourself up even more. God it hurt **so much** why couldn't you just **stop** you're so stupid you **idi** -  
  
"-ud." …. Someone was talking? But that couldn't be right, there was no one here. You came here specifically _because_ there would be no one around to hear you cry your guts out. _Especially_ since your safe space by the old tracks had been compromised. The voice that shouldn't be spoke again. "hey," it said, "it's alright," and it was enough of a shock to momentarily seize your building panic. Was there really someone there with you?  
  
You felt the earth shift ever so slightly a few feet next to you, a couple pebbles jarred loose before they rolled into the river with a plunk. Oh god, you really weren't alone. And whoever they were, they had just heard all of... of _that!_ Your muscles contracted as you tried to pull yourself into a tighter ball, fingers clenching as nails dug deeper, your sobs kicking back up tenfold because you're such an **idiot** ! Now look what you've done, they're going to think you're crazy, you're so stupid why can't you ever do anything right it's no wonder everyone hates you you're such a basket case you'd be better off de-  
  
"hey, bud, it's ok. you're ok." Oh god no it's not okay, stop **lying** , whoever you are!!  
  
That painful pressure, that uncomfortable and agonizing ache, has returned to your chest and god it **hurt so much** why couldn’t you breathe, you need to-  
  
"breathe." The voice was calm as its owner spoke to you slowly. "you're doing great, kid,” it coached, “just follow my lead." The voice took a slow, deep breath and as you struggled to follow along, hiccups and broken sobs interrupting your mimicry, you finally registered that the voice was a rather deep, rumbling baritone.  
  
Your companion released his breath in an equally slow exhale and you copied him once more, working through stray hiccups. He didn't say anything nor did he make an attempt to touch you (as far as you know, anyway; not much you could see, curled in on yourself as you were), just continued to walk you through your breathing.  
  
Inhale…

Exhale...  
  
Your fingers loosened their death grip on your flesh; your muscles began to slacken.  
  
In. And out.  
  
You lost count of how many breaths you had taken but eventually you're able to regain a reasonable breathing pattern, vaguely noting you were no long biting on the fabric of your shirt, though a few lingering hiccups jostled their way through every now and again. It's silly, you couldn’t help but think, how you're already starting to feel better. You had just bawled your heart out in front of a complete stranger, despite them having been kind enough to stop and help you through it, and you were... you're okay. You should thank them, it'd be the polite thing to do.

It took you a moment of internal struggle (what if they're looking at you with pity, judging you for your inability to regulate your emotions?) but you eventually managed to free your head from the confines of your bent knees and clinging arms. You had fully intended to say thank you, regardless of what their face might express, but the second your eyes met their gaze, words slipped unthinkingly passed your lips, eyes wide in something akin to... awe? Shock?

"It's you..." It came out as a near breathless whisper; you continued to hiccup out, "The s-skeleton at the tracks… l-last m-month." The skeleton shaped monster you had embarrassingly mistaken for a dead body weeks ago was squatted next to you, chuckling—just a couple soft, short puffs of sound.  
  
"heh, yep. 's me alright. nice to know you didn't forget me at the station."  
  
You scrunched your brows in confusion. What...?  
  
"eh, don't worry about it, kid.” he(?) said at seeing the befuddled expression you were sure was painted across your face. “i can tell that train of thought has been derailed."  
  
"Wh-" you frowned, confused, cutting yourself off mid-reply. What was he talking about? What was with the references to trains…?

It took you a moment, sitting there staring at the pearly whiteness of the monster’s bones, so uncanny in their resemblance to a human skeleton yet also so blaringly different, eyebrows creased and lips bent in a frown, before what he was doing finally sunk in.

"Oh." You attempted to laugh at the same time you hiccuped, the noise coming out as a rather awkward tangle of sound. You took a nasty, stuffy inhale through your nose, built up mucus pulling down your nasal passage and disgustingly tumbling down into your throat with a swallow. "Y-you're making jokes. Punning?"

He—they? The skeleton’s voice _sounded_ male, but did monsters even have genders? You had never thought to ask nor pondered that until now, compounded with the fact that you had yet to have the chance to speak to a monster since most chose to stick close to Mount Ebott, but you were getting offtrack (hah!), that was a topic to address should the issue present itself. You forced your mind to focus. He chuckled, the corners of his porcelain grin stretching.

“ya got me,” he conceded with a lazy shrug, and you couldn’t help but titter in response. His grin twitched wider yet. “you’re smilin’.”

You choked out another laugh, a hiccup catching it in the middle as a tear fell free. You wiped it away with a thumb, eyes blinking shut. “I guess I am.” you replied with a weak grin of your own.

You took a moment to calm yourself, the two of you situated in silence—you seated in your fetal position, him squatted a few feet away at your side, facing the river—before you broke it with a soft “Thank you.” You hurried to rebury  your head in your knees once the words left your lips, cheeks warming in an embarrassed, awkward flush, arms wrapped tight around your legs. He hummed an acknowledging response.

You didn’t see the soft expression the skeleton offered you, folded in on yourself as you were, instead only heard him when he asked, “you good?” You nodded your head, overcome with so many warring emotions: relief, gratitude, mortification, self-directed anger and annoyance. “need me to stick around?”

That caught you off guard. He didn’t know a thing about you, didn’t have any kind of personal tie nor obligation to you and yet here he was, helping you—a perfect stranger—through your panic, tossing jokes to undoubtedly cheer you up, offering to stick around for emotional support if you felt you needed it…. And all this after the way you had freaked out on him back at the train tracks. Why? Why was he doing this? Were all monsters this kind?

Your eyes began to tear up again at the monster’s kindness, at the sheer compassion he was showing you, and you were incredibly grateful your face was hidden; he didn’t need to see any more of your tears, even if they were borne out of gratitude.

You shook your head in the negative.

“No….” you managed to squeak out, “Thank you, though.”

You heard him release another hum in acknowledgement, felt the air shift a bit and heard a few more pebbles tumble into the river. He must have stood up.

“s’no problem, bud.” he answered, and you thought that was that, that those were his parting words and he’d be off, but there was merely a silent pause between the two of you in which—you couldn’t quite explain how—you knew he was still there, standing next to you. Just as you were about to raise your head from your knees and sneak a peek at him, that rumbling baritone of his broke the lull. You froze as he said, “don’t be too hard on yourself, kid. you’ve got people that really care about you.” And then, suddenly, with no further _plunk_ of rocks breaking the surface of the water, no rustling of the bushes or trees or grass around you, you knew you were the only one present on the river’s shore. And despite being alone, physically, you couldn’t help but feel that wasn’t quite true. You had apparently made a new friend, somehow, and that caused a warmth to swell within your chest.

You had people that cared about you, huh?

Arms tightening around your legs once more, you crushed your folded limbs in a tight hug, elated.

It wasn’t until you had made your way home, stepping through the threshold of your door and patting the top of Lolo’s furry head as he welcomed you back, that you realized you hadn’t gotten your new monster friend’s name—nor had you given him yours.

With a soft smile and a fuzzy warmth in your chest you told yourself you would have to ask, next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm accepting prompts/requests for this story, so if there's something you'd like to see happen between Reader and Sans (or any of the other UT characters) don't hesitate to let me know! If you've got anything on your mind, feel free to submit it via comment here or send it in to me on tumblr: [redeyedryu](http://redeyedryu.tumblr.com/)


	3. Making Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out helping others can be rather cathartic.

It was a couple months later and you were seated at a corner table in your favorite local café. Your fingers were wrapped around a warm, ceramic mug. The beverage inside was drained to about mid-way, the liquid teetering somewhere between lukewarm and room temp. You hadn't seen that curious skeleton monster since that day at the river's edge. You have, however, managed to stumble across a few new monsters in the interim.

There was the adorably shy, yellow reptilian monster at the bookstore who spoke softly and with a bit of a stutter, who you had made the conscious effort to approach when you noticed them thumbing through one of your favorite manga series. The two of you had spent a good half hour at _least_ discussing the good and the bad of various series you were both familiar with, even going so far as to give each other recommendations. You never knew someone could get so heated—so _passionate_ —over Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, of all things, before that day.

Much like with the skeleton, it wasn't until well after the two of you had parted ways that you were suddenly blindsided with the realization that you hadn't gotten the little monster's name—no phone number or online handle either. Absolutely nothing to enable a line of communication should either of you be interested in picking up where you had left off. You hoped you’d meet them again to rectify that oversight.

You smiled at the recollection and tipped your mug, swirling the liquid inside in absent thought. You raised the cup to your lips and tipped it forward, swallowing down a bit more of your beverage. As you dropped the mug back atop its saucer, a light _tink_ ringing out as ceramic met ceramic, you thought back to the next run-in you had experienced.

It was a few weeks after your meeting with the monster in the bookstore and a little over a week ago. This time, you had the pleasure of meeting a cynical, snarky cat-like monster that you had run into during an evening walk with Lolo—the latter of which you had had to wrestle off of the former due to your pup’s excitable and overly friendly nature. You had spent a good few minutes apologizing profusely for that fiasco of an outing. Thankfully, the feline monster had been forgiving, offhandedly mentioning that he’d been in way more mortifying situations; a dog that got a little too close and a little too friendly was nothing to fuss over.

Not wanting a repeat of the missed opportunities with the skeleton and the little yellow reptilian monster, you quickly bade Lolo to sit at your heels before you held out an insistent hand and introduced yourself.

You told the cat-monster your name and that it was nice to meet him, despite the embarrassing and awkward introduction à la your lolo Lolo.

Curiously, you noted that his eyes had widened a bit at the exchange. His slitted, black irises narrowed ever so slightly as his lips puckered into something of a frown, his expression that of a person attempting to decipher some kind of puzzle. It was admittedly kind of cute how his ears folded back, too.

After a quick beat his expression loosened, his brow quirked with a lazy grin showing off his pearly white teeth, his ears moving to face forward once more. He took your hand in his and proceeded to introduced himself as BP. Before you could ask him what the B and P stood for—because surely they were initials for _something_ —a sour expression had wrinkled up his face and he quite pointedly told you,

“Don't ask. It's a terrible story.” And then proceeded to pull a cigarette from a beaten up carton stuffed in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Oh…” was all you had managed at that, watching as he lit his cigarette with a black zippo, the lighter flipping shut with an audible _clink_. You glanced to Lolo, who was by then laying at your feet on his side, comfy and completely relaxed amongst the grass. It wouldn't hurt to linger, what with him being so content.

Averting your attention back to BP, since he had yet to walk off, you had ventured to ask him if there was any particular reason he was out here. Not that it wasn't allowed or anything, you just found it rather curious to see a monster in this particular part of town. They sure seemed to be showing up around the place with more frequency these days.

There was the vague thought that maybe you should keep up with the news more often. You were, admittedly, a bit out of the loop when it came to current events—especially when it dealt with the ongoing battle between Monsters and your country’s Government. Last you’d heard Monsters had been lobbying for their… unalienable rights or something? You vaguely remembered something about Monsters only having the most basic of privileges and having certain parameters or restrictions or _whatever_ they had to follow because the Government didn't presently view them as citizens—as people, as unsettling a thought as that was.

BP had taken a quick drag before answering, releasing smoke in a much slower exhale, before he replied. Apparently he was checking out the—as he put it—“human” city, since monsters had _finally_ been allowed free roam of the area immediately surrounding Mount Ebott and the Monsters’ own settlement, but only as far as the human city’s limits. When you asked about how the fight for Monster rights was going he had said the King and Queen, along with the human ambassador, were still working on it.

“You could say they're make headway, little buddy,” you had scrunched your nose at that—you were far from “little”—but didn't comment, instead listened patiently as BP continued, “but I'm not holding my breath. Figured I'd get out and see the city while I can. You know, before us monsters are all shoved back into the mountain.” He then proceeded to take another drag from the cigarette, heavier that time, as a pervasive sense of melancholy settled in. You quietly watched the cloud of smoke he exhaled and tried your hardest to ignore the goosebumps that had risen all along your skin. “Or, you know, dusted. Whichever comes first.”

That had caused you to frown. Dusted? Like as in… _killed?_ Curious way to word it, but there's no _way_ something like that would happen. ...right? You briefly thought of the grinning skeleton that had been so kind to you on those serendipitous meetings, of the concern he had shown you. The thought of someone as nice as that being denied the simplest of human rights—of having to deal with the looming threat of possible re-banishment or, heaven forbid, _genocide_ —chilled you to your core in the worst kind of way. You had clenched your fists about as tight as you had clenched your jaw, your teeth grinding at the disgusting, inhumane idea.

“There's no way something like that would happen, BP.” you seethed, glaring down at the dirt and grass beneath your feet. You hoped your voice sounded steady, hoped it conveyed your belief, because despite wanting to hope for the best possible outcome you honestly wouldn't put it past your government—past the human race with all its flaws and hate and closed minded bigotry—to attempt such a disgusting, despicable thing. History wasn't exactly in the Monsters’ favor, after all; humanity didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to acceptance.

Having sensed the shift in your demeanor, Lolo had rolled onto his belly, his head tilted up to look you in the face. He had then quickly sat up on his haunches to nudge your fist with a cold, wet nose—his doggish attempt at consoling you. You couldn’t help but loosen up at that, flicking your eyes to settle on your canine companion. It had startled you a bit when you had then felt a sudden, stinging coldness trace along the side of your face with the movement, a tear trailing down from your eye before stopping mid-way down the apple of your cheek. You wiped it away as covertly as you could, hoping BP hadn’t caught sight of it. It was embarrassing and so incredibly _frustrating_ how you wore your emotions on your sleeve despite your every effort to maintain better control.

If BP had seen anything he didn’t say, just continued to puff on his cigarette as he stared off into the middle distance. Eventually, as you sat squat next to Lolo, rubbing at the fluff just under his ears, the feline monster let loose something of a dry laugh.

“Maybe there really is something new, something good, waiting for us up here…” It was almost a whisper but you had heard his apparent absent minded mumble nonetheless.

“Huh?” you had automatically responded, brows creased as you turned to look up at him.

He chuckled softly, closing his eyes. “Nothing, little buddy. Just the mumblings of an old man.” He then proceeded to shake his head lightly before catching your gaze. He wore a lopsided grin, cigarette tucked in the corner of his lips.

 _Old man?_ You had to tilt your head at that. He didn't _look_ like an old man. Heck, you had been thinking _you_ were the eldest of you two but then again… it's not like you were any kind of expert on monsters.

“No offense, BP, but you don’t _look_ that old. You can’t be more than what… 20? 22?”

He laughed at that, plucking the cigarette from between his lips and dropping it to the grass at his feet. “19, actually,” he replied casually, stomping out the butt of his cigarette with the heel of his kicks—they were red, you had offhandedly noticed as you proceeded to rub at Lolo’s belly. The doof had gone back to laying down in the grass, seemingly mollified.

“I don’t know what your definition of an ‘old man’ is but I’m gonna have to say 19 is more like borderline man-child, BP. Not even close to being the same thing.” Distracted as you were with your pup you had missed the soft, almost hesitant smile that crossed BP’s face.

When he cleared his throat and began to fidget in place you redirected your attention. He brought a hand to rub at the back of his neck, the other burying into the pocket of his jeans as your eyes met his. You couldn’t help but quirk a brow at this sudden show of nervousness. He looked away first.

“Hey, so uh... listen,” he paused, dropping his arm from his neck to mirror the opposite in his pocket. He looked off to the side, shoulders pulled up. “Thanks. For… whatever this was. It was nice, meeting a friendly human for once—besides the kid, that is.” His shoulders then dropped in a shrug and he turned around, his back facing you. “Anyway, it’s getting pretty late; gotta head back before curfew and all that.” He started forward as you jumped to your feet, Lolo instantly shooting to attention with you. BP raised an arm in a lazy wave as he called over his shoulder, “See you around, little buddy.”

A little dumbstruck at his abrupt departure, it had taken you a minute to collect yourself. There was a flutter in your abdomen as you watched the monster walk off, an odd cocktail of emotions that had roiled about in your chest. You couldn’t help thinking that you had somehow shared a positive experience with your newest monster acquaintance, had maybe even cheered him up a little. ...was that too presumptuous of a thought? ...he wouldn’t have thanked you if that hadn’t been at least a little true, right?

...

Oh, whatever, there was no use in standing there overthinking things.

“HEY! BP!!” you had cried out, jumping in place a little as you waved after the retreating cat monster. He paused and glanced over his shoulder with a slight twist. “It was nice meeting you!!” Lolo had been quick to pick up on your exuberance, letting loose a couple raucous barks as BP tossed another wave your wave before continuing on.

It wasn’t long after that that you and Lolo had made your way back home, a goofy, face splitting grin plastered on your face the entire way. The third monster you had met, and just as it had been with the skeleton and the reptile, you had found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. There was something about monsters, you couldn't help but think, that just oozed friendliness; positivity and a hope for better things. Granted, BP exuded those things in a bit more restrained and muted manner but still, it was there.

You drained the last of your drink—which had most definitely cooled to room temperature during your rumination—and then returned the empty mug to its saucer. You tapped your index finger against the surface of the small table you were seated at, gaze drifting out the window. People were bustling by, closed off to the world around them, focused on themselves and their destinations. A little bead of disappointment lodged itself in your chest when you noticed a distinct lack of monsters in the crowd.

You wondered how long it would take for that to change, how long until monsters would become a regular—and welcomed—fixture in the city. Thinking back to the morning’s news broadcast you couldn't help the hopeful thought that it would be soon. There was to be a vote held in just a few weeks’ time regarding Monster rights. There were, of course, people very vocally against monsters but the majority of what you had seen had been in their favor.

You wrapped your hands around the cold, empty mug, thumb rubbing along the lip of the cup as you smiled softly. The thought of the monsters being granted what they deserved—what all sapient creatures did—brought a swell of warmth to your chest.

As you raised out of your seat and cleared the table, dropping off your cup and saucer in a nearby bin for the workers to attend to, you thought of BP’s hopeful muttering, of the little yellow monster’s innocuous exuberance over such an ordinary subject, and finally of the skeleton’s gentle guidance and support—of those silly little jokes he had told in an attempt to cheer you up and distract you from dark and debilitating thoughts.

Monsters really weren't any different from humans, were they? They hoped and they dreamed; they had emotions and had a very definite impact on the people around them. They deserved so much better. They deserved the world—just as much as you or anyone else did.

You pulled your jacket tight around your neck, a weak buffer against the still sometimes chilly Spring breeze, and set out from the café.

No matter what, you had decided that you were going to fight for Monsters—were going to support them in anyway you could. It was the least you could do to repay the skeleton who had been so kind, to welcome the little monster who had seemed so skittish and shy, to show BP that yes, there really _was_ something good awaiting monsters here on the surface. It was the least you could do for the people who helped clear the fog from your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that doesn't know, lolo—as I am familiar with it—can mean two things in two different languages: crazy and grandfather. In the context of Reader referring to her dog as lolo, she is in fact calling her dog crazy. Whether she underhandedly named her dog grandpa or crazy is up to you though.
> 
> And sorry, no Sans this time. This time around I just needed some positive interactions and wanted to show that despite how low you can get, how ugly the world can seem at times, it's never too late to discover a purpose or drive in life—to realize that hey, maybe things really can get better. It might not be big, but every little bit helps. And sometimes, it doesn't hurt to branch out and meet new people.
> 
> Have something you'd like to see happen next? Feel free to request scenarios and/or character interactions! You can leave a comment below or submit it to me via my tumblr at [redeyedryu](http://redeyedryu.tumblr.com/).

**Author's Note:**

> I'm open to requests on interactions between characters for this fic, so if there's anything you'd like to see, feel free to share your thoughts. You can also bug me at my tumblr: [redeyedryu](http://redeyedryu.tumblr.com/)


End file.
